


My Colony

by Fandoms_Are_Life37



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America does his best to keep up, America is so eager to please, America is super obedient in bed, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Begging, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Alfred, Bottom America (Hetalia), Colony America (Hetalia), Consensual, Consensual Sex, Desperation, Dirty Talk, England loves and adores America, England shows him how, First Time, French Kissing, Hair-pulling, He's a desperate bottom and no one can convince me otherwise, He's not very independent once he gets all hot and bothered, I have a kink for consent, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Loss of Virginity, Loud Sex, M/M, Needy America, Oil, One Shot, Oral Sex, Prostate Massage, Seme Arthur, Seme England, Teaching, Top Arthur, Top England (Hetalia), UKUS, Uke Alfred, Uke America, Wet Dream, Yaoi, in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Are_Life37/pseuds/Fandoms_Are_Life37
Summary: England maps his colony, though not his land ;)
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	My Colony

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided there isn't enough UkUs content in the world so here we go. God, I need a life. I also need a plot. This is short because it has, like, none. I'm sorry.
> 
> Inspired by Cartography by Drewyth 
> 
> Warnings: Sexual content, strong language
> 
> Also, Alfie isn't a kid because that'd be fucked up.
> 
> Word count: 4,051
> 
> Estimated read time: 22 minutes

There were a lot of reasons why England wanted to lay claim to the New World.

The land was fertile, resources were plentiful, the natives weren't strong enough to keep them out, colonies could be built, and it could even provide a shorter passage to India than going around the tip of Africa. That would be great for the silk and spice trade and any European kingdom with a lick of sense knew that the New World was worth more than anything they'd found yet.

It was a race to see who could claim the most land. France had taken Northern territories, discovering a young man he named Canada that had natural resources in surplus. Norway and Sweden had claimed even further north, but most of what they took was just ice. Spain had seized area further south, discovering island after island to take for himself. Portugal had some of the central section, also swiping some islands in the newly named Caribbean Sea. Even the Netherlands had plucked some islands from the New World and some stretches along the southern continent. Italy seemed to be the only power that hadn't cut himself a slice.

England couldn't just watch while they bit off chunks of land. Besides, from what he'd seen and heard, all of the personifications across the Atlantic were very likable. France and Canada were already like family, Spain and Mexico were best friends, and Portugal was courting one of the islands.

Leaving whatever personifications that were over there to France was almost cruel and certainly not very gentlemanly. And he was nothing if not a gentleman.

A civilization called Roanoke was built, but things went poorly. They tried again and built Jamestown, which was much more successful. After his explorers and early colonists got their footing and it was sure that they would thrive, his king had asked him to go find the personification that must have manifested thanks to them cultivating new settlements.

So England crossed the sea on a ship, feeling the addicting energy of adventure begin to infect him. They arrived after a very, very dull trip that almost killed his spirit. He wasn't sure if crossing the ocean was worth it after his third week of eating dried foods.

His doubt was squandered when they landed. Just looking at his surroundings, he could tell that it would be the perfect spot for a colony, and after that, he could expand all along the coast. This would be great for his empire, indeed.

The people there were happy and he liked talking to them, but they didn't seem to know anything about personifications, namely the one that represented their rapidly growing towns. The closest thing to a clue that he got was that there was a young man that lived with the natives without matching their skin tones. England concluded this man couldn't be an Englishman because no one seemed to know who exactly he was.

On his own (he said soldiers may scare off the natives that he lived with and, therefore, the personification), England spent nearly a week in the woods, searching. He was attacked by local tribes twice, but they fled when their arrows didn't affect him, even when they lodged themselves in his body. It was likely startling.

But then, one day, he was trekking through the woods, feeling very discouraged, when he saw a young man. His hair was golden blond, his eyes a dazzling blue, and his smile like a thousand suns.

England froze.

When the colony looked up and spotted him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Who are you?"

"Sorry to startle you. I'm- Well, I'm like you."

"What do you mean, 'like me?'"

"You do know you're a personification, don't you?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "So you're one of them, too?"

"Yes. I've been looking for you. You represent the new English settlements along the coast, don't you? America?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"I'm England. I was hoping you'd come with me. You have roles to fulfill as my colony."

This didn't seem to excite him. Instead, he looked rather uneasy. "Like my brother? He was taken by men who spoke a language I didn't understand."

The closest non-English settlement was Quebec. Canada must have been who America was referring to. "They were French, so it's no surprise you didn't naturally speak the language."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"I know. It's okay. I'll explain everything."

He shifted from foot to foot, clearly unsure, but eventually, he agreed and they started back toward civilization once again.

It took them a couple of days to get back and during that time, England taught him everything he'd need to know about both of them, even explaining what life was like far away. America seemed captivated by his stories, staring at him with transfixed sky blue eyes.

Those eyes were driving England insane. Even in sleep, their hue and shine were burned into his mind. After waking up covered in sweat and panting from a dream depicting America gasping and begging for his touch, he'd realized that he was fond of his colony, though not in a friendly way.

America had been sleeping soundlessly beside him. They were leaning against bags on the ground with only half a day's ride until they reached their destination left and England had to get up and change clothes as quietly as possible so as not to wake him.

Being beside him felt right in so many ways. England decided that he'd get America to fall for him somehow. His charm was one of his best characteristics, which he fully intended to work to his advantage.

Back in Jamestown, he stayed in an expensive inn, renting a room for them. America has stood beside him when he requested the singular room and large bed, not objecting, much to England's delight.

They went up the creaky wooden stairs and England unlocked the door, pushing it open and allowing America to enter first before kicking off his shoes and beginning to arrange his things.

America had borrowed clothes from England and England loved the way they looked on him when he set about getting his affairs in order.

"Let me help," England offered, assisting him in hanging his clothes as an excuse to stand close to him. He smelled delicious- like forest and sea spray and honey all at the same time. There was nothing England wanted more than to push him down on the bed and breathe him in like smoke.

"Thank you."

England let himself press against America momentarily to put his extra pair of boots on the shelf above America's head. He could feel his colony stiffen, but he didn't give any sign that he didn't like it, so England simply went back to the bed and cracked open a book.

"What are you reading?" America asked, sitting down on the bed beside him.

"Romeo and Juliet. It's a popular play from my home."

"What's it about?"

Perfect. An opportunity. "Lovers."

"Oh," America replied, twiddling his thumbs.

"You seem unsettled," England remarked. "What, have you never had a lover before?"

His colony's face flushed and he turned his head away. "No."

Just when England didn't think this new colony could be any better, he found out he was a virgin: clean, untouched, and pure. If he got the chance to take America, that'd make him completely his. No matter what happened in the future, England would always have been the first to stake his claim.

"Why not?" England asked, trying to make his voice seem nonchalant.

America shrugged, eyes cast down on the quilt. Frustratingly, England could no longer see their blue hue. "I've never met anyone who... Wanted people in the way I did."

"What do you mean?"

"I- Well, I tend to find people attractive in a way that's not very acceptable."

Christ, he was into men, too. How lucky could England be? "I understand."

"You do?"

England nodded. "I'm the same way."

America smiled at him and England wanted to kiss him so, so bad... "Good."

"You know, America," England said, taking a breath to steady himself. "Since this is the case, perhaps I could help you with your lack of experience in relationships."

"Really?" America asked, grinning. "How?"

So naive.

"I could show you what it's like to have someone in the kind of way only lovers do."

It took a moment, but the realization finally set in and America's beautiful blue eyes went wide. "Ohhhhhh, I see what you mean. I think... I think I'd like to try that."

England felt a tug in his stomach as his body stirred to life. He slipped his bookmark in and put the Shakespearian play on the table beside the bed so that he could crawl over to America and sit in front of him.

His colony's breath hitched and God was that a beautiful sound.

Very carefully, England kissed him, cupping his face when he did so. America returned it and interlocked his fingers behind England's neck. The hands were nice, but England was considering restricting them later. That might be even better.

When he introduced his tongue, America easily gave into his dominance. Inexperienced as he was, there was no way he could lead their kisses anyway.

The longer they spent like that- hot, sweaty, and desperate, the more England wanted to increase their contact. The clothes between them we infuriating and sliding his fingers over America's chest sounded like heaven.

"I want to map every bit of you," England whispered, dragging his fingers down America's chest.

He swallowed dryly. "Map? I thought- Oh. As in- And you want... me me? Not my land?"

England grinned as his touch drifted down America's arm. "Both. But right now, I'm only concerned about you personally. What do you say?"

"Yes," he nodded eagerly. "A thousand times, yes."

Now armed with his permission, England shoved America back- hard. He fell onto the bed, a surprised look on his face while England straddled him, leaning down so that their lips just barely brushed and making quick work of his cravat.

"I want to touch you until you can't even speak," England said seductively, undoing each button of America's vest. He removed it and started on the next layer until he could undo America's shirt, leaving his top half in nothing but a thrown open shirt. He leaned down and connected their lips while his hands slid across America's virgin skin.

"O- Okay" America replied. He stopped when England's fingers found his nipple, rubbing in circles until it was perked. His mouth moved from America's to his jaw, leaving kisses and pink marks as he worked his way down his otherwise unmarked skin.

America's hands reached up to lace his fingers into England's hair, pulling gently to egg him on.

Happy to oblige, England took off his vest and shirt and tossed them aside while he nibbled on the shell of America's ear, whispering dirty things and flustering him.

England reached down and undid America's pants. When his hands grazed over the sensitive area, he heard America take a sharp breath. He slowed down in his task, smirking at the redness in America's cheeks.

Eventually, though, he pulled them off, followed by America's stockings and underwear with much less teasing. He took hold of his hips and began biting along the bone, sucking once in a while to leave hickeys.

America whimpered as his tongue moved closer and closer to his cock, the place he needed it most. To test the waters, England pressed a kiss to his tip, at which America gasped and squirmed closer.

He smirked. "You're so sensitive."

"I- Please don't stop..."

Desperation. He could hear in America's voice. Already? Some pride swelled in his chest. He'd drawn that from his colony and they'd only just begun.

"Whatever you say, darling."

His hand slipped behind America's back and ghosted over his backside, even brushing through his crack briefly. That made America gasp when he felt England's touch on his entrance. It was gone quickly, though, moving to his front and giving his cock a singular pump before sliding between his thighs, which he pushed apart and began to stimulate the inside of.

True to his word, England continued kissing each centimeter of his body. Over the next few minutes, either his lips, his tongue, his teeth, or his hands had, indeed, touched every part of his body. He committed it all to memory, mapping his new territory with all the enthusiasm of a cartographer.

He sunk his teeth into the soft skin of America's inner thigh hard enough that it would certainly leave a bite mark. His colony yelped in surprise, but the instinctive push of his hips told England that he was enjoying himself.

"You like that, don't you?" He challenged.

America nodded.

"Good. Now hold still." England opened his mouth and closed it around the top half of America's cock.

He moaned- a strained, pleasured noise that sounded perfect coming from his beautiful, swollen lips.

England could tell it was taking all of his self-control for America not to jerk his hips upward, but he was an obedient lover, clenching the sheets in his hands to ground himself instead of doing what he was told not to.

It was ironic. Outside the bedroom, America had a bit of a defiant streak. England had only seen it one or two times. It's possible that it would give him trouble in the future. But here: naked, aroused, and needy, America was as pliant as clay.

Once he started slowly teasing his tongue along his cock, he felt a shiver run down America's spine and watched as his toes curled.

And if America had felt good before, it was nothing compared to when England got down to the business of giving him a proper blowjob.

America's fingers tightened around the sheets and he squeezed his eyes shut. Now that simply wouldn't do. England didn't want to be deprived of the dark, lustful look in those mesmerizing eyes he had spent so long thinking about.

His mouth pulled away and America whined.

England hushed him. "Open your eyes."

He did, one at a time and looked up at him. Delicious- that was the only way to describe his appearance. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks were red, his lips were wet, there were marks all over him, and his cock was throbbing and weeping for more attention.

"W- Why did you stop?" America stuttered.

"To admire you. We've got all night, love. No need to rush."

The look in his eyes said that there was, indeed, a need to rush. America was buzzing with excitement and he wanted nothing more than to have England take him as his own. But, submissive, America didn't protest.

England smirked, laying a sloppy hiss on the underside of his chin. "Good boy. Now, be a dear and get me out of the rest of these clothes."

Eager, America scrambled up and undid the buttons to England's pants. He yanked them down and set them to the side to peel off England's starch white stockings. Before he could take off his underwear, though, England pinned him down, enjoying the little surprised noise America made.

"Now, listen here, America. There are a few things you need to know before we continue since this is your first time."

"Like what?" America asked, pushing his hips up a bit and hoping England would get on with it instead of talking.

A knee of England's came between his legs and pressed him down, giving him the friction he craved and keeping him under control at the same time. "If you feel the need to stop, you need to tell me. If you'd like to keep going but what is happening isn't good for you, I need to know that as well. If anything at all is wrong- you have to say something."

"Okay," America replied, grinding against England's knee. To be honest, he couldn't care less what England was saying. His mind was so foggy with want- no, with need- to desire anything other than contact, contact, contact!

The empire chuckled and took hold of his discarded cravat to tie it around America's right hand, then connected it to one of the bedposts before doing the same with America's cravat to his left.

He tugged on the restraints a bit to check them. "Too tight?"

"No, they're fine. Now, please, England, please can we keep going?"

The pleading was so sincere that it would be wrong of England to deny him any more pleasure, so he climbed off the bed in search of his coat.

America made a strangled sound somewhere between a wince and a whine. "Where are you going? Don't leave me like this, England, please. I need you, I need you so bad; everything just feels so hot and good and I need more, please!"

It hadn't even been England's intention to make his colony beg some more, but the breathy, anguished cries were a welcome addition.

England got the oils used for this purpose from his coat's pocket. He always kept some on hand after he met America. After all, one never knows when they may be needed.

"I'm just getting the oils, darling. Wouldn't want to hurt you, now would I?" Then, "Well, not unless you wanted me to."

If the sounds America had been making earlier were any indication, he liked the feeling of his skin between England's teeth. Perhaps he'd like more of that pleasureful pain. But that was an experiment for another time. Tonight was about learning his way around all of America's body, not for testing the limits to his masochism.

He tossed off his bothersome underwear and got back on the bed to situate himself below America, spreading his legs open wide and admiring the view.

America squirmed under his gaze, feeling heat spread through his body. The way England studied him, the way he moved his eyes all over was embarrassing but thrilling all at the same time.

After a moment, England opened the vial of scented oils and put it on his fingers, using a generous amount. His index finger traced the puckered skin around America's hole to make it slipperier and therefore make America's experience better- not because America would tense and relax his muscles in response to England's touch and he liked the way his hole pulsed below his finger. That was definitely not why.

When his index finger breached America's entrance, he gasped and his muscles contracted.

England put a kiss on America's stomach. "Shh, darling. Relax."

America did as instructed, making it easier for England to begin pumping the finger in and out in order to loosen the passageway. With America obeying so readily, it wasn't long before England could slide another finger in beside the first.

His body spasmed again, and England added more kisses along his inner thigh, murmuring, "Don't tense up, love."

The instant he said it, he could feel America doing his best to unclench his muscles. They'd twitch and get tighter once in a while, but England knew it wasn't voluntary.

He slowly began to move the fingers, painting kisses across America's chest. "There we go. Good job, America. Very good job. Just like that."

His index and middle fingers parted to begin scissoring, stretching America's walls to make room for England to enter him. He curled and moved them, sliding them all around America's inside, memorizing how it felt and looking for his prostate.

England pressed his fingers into his target and America yelped, jerking forward and pulling at his restraints.

He looked down at England, mouth hanging open. "W-What was that?"

"That was your prostate, my dear," England smirked and pressed it again, sending America into another fit of pleasure. "Does that feel good, America?"

"Y- Yes! Oh, god, again! More, please... Please, England, ple-"

"Alright, alright," He said, chuckling as he began to massage the gland with his fingertips. He applied pressure, dragged his fingers across it, pinched it, and everything else he could to make America feel good because it was incredibly intoxicating to watch America.

His colony was shaking all over and unable to stay still as he moved his hips toward England. Each of his eyes was squeezed shut in an expression of utter ecstasy and his heels dug into the mattress, kicking a bit once in a while, especially when England would push hard.

It was a sight to see, that was for sure, and England was delighted that it was his and only his.

After a few minutes of rubbing his prostate, England pressed in a third finger. Thanks to his constant contact with the sensitive area, America didn't even feel the pain of the third one going in, meaning that England could work his fingers in and out until he was thoroughly prepared and wouldn't have felt any pain anyway.

England took his fingers out and he didn't think he'd ever heard anything as lovely as the mewl America made. He poured out some more oil, being plenty liberal with it, and slicked up his hard cock.

America wiggled to shift and see what England was doing. When he did, it increased his excitement tenfold.

Slathered in oil and ready to go, England lined himself up with America's hole and then, slowly, ever so slowly, he pressed in. The whole time, he kept his eyes on America, wanting to see every reaction.

He wasn't disappointed. America moaned and turned his head, pressing it into his elbow and gasping. Each sinful string of words that fell from his lips was music to his ears until he was fully sheathed inside.

Trying his best to be comforting, England brushed some hair off America's forehead and kissed him. "That's it, America. How are you doing?"

His colony groaned. "Good, oh it's so good."

"You're not in pain?"

America shook his head fiercely, messing up his hair even more. "N- No. Can you... Can you move?"

England grinned. "I'd love to."

His hips began thrusting forward and drawing back at a steady, brisk pace. They snapped back and forth, changing their angle each time to search for the spot that'd really make America feel good.

He was having a bit of trouble finding it (though America seemed perfectly content regardless), but with some trial and error, he found the spot he'd been searching for and committed their position to memory for later use.

America shouted out something unintelligible and England leaned down to press their lips together in efforts to make him quieter. He wasn't sure how thick the walls of the inn were, but he was pretty sure there would be complaints lodged against him come morning and there would probably be a small fee. It didn't matter- this was well worth it.

As he approached his high, America's heart beat faster and his knees quivered, so England knew that he was close.

"Eng- ah, ngh, England, I'm gonna- oh god, I'm going to-"

"I know, love," England said against his lips. "Whenever you're ready."

Perhaps ten or fifteen seconds later, America's whole body seized up and his wrists pulled against the cravats so much that England briefly wondered if they would rip. The thought was left behind when America's walls tightened around him. America's back arched and with a moan that could only be described as downright dirty, he came.

With that sight and the feeling of America's hole clenching, England was sent over the edge. He shoved back in one more time, burying himself in deep so that all of his fluids went inside his colony.

He shuddered and when he was sure the climax was over, England withdrew and rolled onto the bed beside America.

It took a moment for them to catch their breath, but when they did, England reached over and pulled America in close, loving the fact that his seed was slowly running out of America's hole and trickling down his leg.

"Clean up?" England asked.

America nodded weakly and England chuckled, getting up to get a towel from the bathroom.

He had a feeling that his empire's prospects in the New World would be great.


End file.
